Ch.01: The New Bouncy Regime
It had been one month since Akira's triumphant victory at the Monaco Fight GP - and exactly one month to the day that his gorgeous mother, Yumi, gave him the best reward he'd ever had: a soothing, pleasurable naked rub-and-tug- his first and only sexual experience. Not the most typical way a mother would reward her son, but the issue of the sleeping demon inside Akira's body did make this an extraordinary situation.Yes, Akira had a real life demon soul resting inside him, something he'd inherited from his father. Now, two things appeased this demon: fighting and sex. Regular, disciplined training helped Akira control the demon, while positive sexual energy, via Yumi, could overpower it. The fighting tournament and subsequent soapy reward was successful in weakening the aforementioned demon, but, for Akira, there were other more pressing changes to adjust to.
Yumi's boyfriend, David, was so enamoured with his Japanese girlfriend that he insisted she - and her son - live with him. Seeing the very obvious benefits to having a multi-millionaire boyfriend, Yumi agreed. So, Yumi and Akira never went back to their rural Japanese home, instead the two moved up - way up, all the way to a super-rich gated community in Los Angeles, USA. This family also included David's son Mike, who was more than pleased to have a hot Asian woman take the mother role in his life.
All was well on the surface for this family, no problems at all. That was because the big issues - the demon and the taboo mom-son bath - were kept secret. Akira followed his mother's orders and did not mention the salacious bath to anyone, not even her. Though they never spoke of it, every night Akira, he, he remembered it. He remembered the feel of his mother's delicate fingers wrapped around his member, her soft breasts against his back, and her warm lips pressed against his skin. He used those vivid memories to sooth his deadly desires, able to keep them at bay...for a while.
Now, we join this family at their LA home, on a hot summer's day. For Akira's martial arts training, a skilled fighter was to move in with them and stay for the reminder of the summer. The boys were hanging around in Mike's room, awaiting the imminent arrival of this special guest.
*
"'My mom is hot and Asian,'" said Mike.
"Uhh, my mom is... hot and...Asia," repeated Akira.
In their spacious home, Mike was teaching Akira some English sayings that he felt were essential for his new brother to know.
"Bro, come on: 'Asian', not 'Asia'. Trust me: If you tell this new guy that you got a hot Asian mom, he'll think you're the coolest guy ever! Guys here love Asian girls and hot moms, and our mom is both, so that new guy will think you're extra awesome!"
Akira gave a stony-faced stare to Mike. "'Our' mom?"
"Yeah, I mean, come on, she's both our mom now, right? My dad ain't ever letting go of your mom! She has him, has him good, the way he talks about her, looks at her, come on, he loves her! And in the bedroom! -" Mike stopped himself before he got another rib-cracking injury from the demon-bound fighter.
"...I see."
Just then, the aforementioned hot Asian mom walked up the stairs, turned a corner, and leaned against the doorway. The comfortable, bare-footed Yumi Shibata was clad in a sporty tank top and tight sweatpants.
"Hello, boys."
"Hi, hi!" replied an excited Mike.
Akira nodded to his mother, his cheeks glowing red from the gorgeous sight in front of him.
Yumi's body had changed during the month, going from a toned martial artist's frame, to a rounder, fuller, womanly figure. This change brought only good things: bigger breasts, wider hips, and a new, juicer ass.
Yumi spoke to her son in Japanese: "Akira, we got that new boy moving in with us today, he's here to help you train, get stronger. I think one of his parents is also coming with him. He's got a real bushido spirit, Son: He asked to train with you, personally."
"Yes, thank you, Mother," he replied solemnly, his eyes trailed directly on her face, using his discipline to look away from her bouncy boobs.
Yumi addressed both boys: "And I...think you two go outside and do training?"
Mike waved his arms. "No, no Ma'am, please, come on, I don't want to fight with Akira again!"
"No?" she smiled. "You no fight, you help Akira with weights. Okay Mikey?"
Yumi's angelic smile was having devilish repercussions for Mike's crotch. He folded his legs and said, "Ahh umm, yeah, sure, no problem, yeah, yeah."
"Okay, see you later boys," she went back down the stairs.
Mike sighed. "Wow, our mom is so pretty."
Akira nodded. "I...agree: My mom is a hot Asian woo-man."
"Yeah! Just like that! Come on, you go hit some punching bags while I teach you some more English!"
Akira agreed. "Hai."
The two boys went down the stairs, outside to the several-yards-long field, As happy as Akira was, with no worries or complaints at all, on that day, seeing his mother look so beautiful and gorgeous, trigged awake more deep memories from that faithful night in the 5-star hotel bathroom: He recalled her floral fragrance, her silkily soft skin, and the feel of each individual areola. With these thoughts in his mind, Akira felt a purple-coated sense of anxiousness seeping out from within him as he worked out his body...and his feelings.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, watching on, was Yumi, seeing an added vigour in her son's moves, a clear sign of an unanswered need. Yumi knew what her son's problem was: it had been a whole month since Akira fought in active competition, she could see that her son was hungry for more fights - and for another well-earned reward.
As she watched on, Yumi thought back to that night, wondering if she made the right choice. Yumi didn't offer her son her body as a way of erotic satisfaction; she knew the demonic side in her son was pacified most by her pure bliss, which at its most powerful crushes any soul-eating darkness. Yet, a part of her regretted that she showed her sexual side to Akira, crossing that mom-son boundary, though she ultimately knew it was her duty and could not be avoided: she had to do it, only she could've provided that kind of pleasure to her son. There was also another moral dilemma to consider as Yumi couldn't wholeheartedly give her son another dose of sexual satisfaction, seeing as she'd just become a confirmed woman...
"Honey, I'm home."
Yumi turned and smiled at her man. "Hello, Day-vid"
The suit-clad, brown-haired, 6'3 American business man leaned down and kissed his woman's tasty lips. "Hmm, how was your day, dear?"
"Good, yours?"
"Great! The company is doing better than ever; I'm due for a good, meaty raise."
"I glad...but," she said with a sad sigh, "Akira... I see he need more fights, he need better competition."
"Well, that's why we brought in that kid," he said as he cracked open a bottle of water, "Has he arrived yet?"
"Soon. It just, it just...a little worrying."
"Aw don't worry about that," he put his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. "I'm here, he's got his new brother to look out for him, everything will be fine, I promise."
"Thank you," she said gratefully as she rubbed her cheek on his.
This aspect of Yumi's life was a surprise to her as this relationship was, initially, a relationship of convenience, but, during the interim time period, it had morphed into something genuine and ...affectionate. Yumi not only found herself connected emotionally to David, but also physically. Yes, facially, David looked like an average forty-something Caucasian man, but beneath the suit, he hid something big, hard and constant. Yumi felt that instrument rub against her back, her cheeks glowing red as it dug in.
He kissed her rosy cheek. "Yumi, you think we got time for...you know."
"Hmmm, but the boys, they -"
"Don't worry; our house is so big that they'll never know. We'll finish by the time they're done."
The old, disciplined Yumi could hold back any urge, but the new, domesticated Yumi? She couldn't resist. It was clear that the dynamics between the two had shifted: Yumi used to be the one that led Richard to the bedroom, the American millionaire seduced by the eastern woman's exotic delights. But now, after getting to know each other to the fullest extent, Richard had became the man who took Yumi to his bedroom, he dictating, when, where, how...and she liked, no, she loved it.
"Okay, let's do it," she said while biting her lower lip.
"Yes! That's my girl!" David slapped his girlfriend's butt, grabbed her hand and went up the three flights of stairs, all the way to the bedroom. Minutes later, they were warming their bodies together, locked in a naked embrace.
*
Akira, while in the middle of an uppercut, suddenly paused: he felt a deep, dark shiver.
"You all right, bro?" asked Mike.
"I'm...fine."
Then, seconds later, Akira felt an otherworldly force shift his attention from the punching bag to the third floor middle window: his mom and David's bedroom.
"Yo, Akira?"
"Umm, sorry," he said while trying to shake off the feelings - but already deep under their spell. "I...I, I go...inside, to... bathroom."
"Oh, okay."
Akira turned and walked briskly into the house. He couldn't explain his motives or his actions, just a sudden, loud urge to go upstairs, all the way to his parents' room. He dashed up the stairs, his body under the half-control of something he couldn't explain, but something that was undoubtedly on Akira's side - his horny teenage side, that is. When Akira got to the top, he heard a series of unfamiliar sounds: shuffling, squeaking and muffled yelps. Heavily intrigued, Akira found the amazing truth when he got closer to the door.
"Ohhhhh!" Yumi groaned in a tone her son had never heard before: pleading, moaning. "Ohhhhhh, so good, so good, yes! Ohhhh!"
Akira parted open the door, and saw a wonderful, beautiful sight: his naked mother on top, her jet-black hair flowing, head arched back, a look of serene pleasure on her pretty face as she gently and elegantly swivelled her hips. A pretty vista indeed, but better was to come: Akira pushed his head forward and got himself a good, hard look at his mother's breasts and butt, bouncing in perfect motion to the tide.
As Akira gazed inside this bright, glowing room, he saw the recipient of this angelic love, David, lying flat on his back, naked, legs out stretched, his hands clasped around Yumi's hips. Akira, of course, knew that his mother and surrogate father had sexual intercourse, and he knew it was a daily occurrence, but seeing it with his own eyes, seeing his Japanese mother's naked body on top of her white American lover's tall, imposing frame, having visual evidence of the interracial joys they experienced, actually watching them go at it, was a whole new emotional sensation for this teen. Akira crotched down and watched as they carried on with their lovemaking.
"Hmmm, oh baby," said David as he took a big feel of Yumi's juicy butt cheeks, groping and slapping them gently. Yumi hummed in pleasure as this man took control of her body. Seeing her positive response to his efforts, he decided to up the tempo: David pulled down his tasty Japanese lover, grabbed both her ass cheeks, and placed his lips over hers.
"Ah, yes, yes!" she said as she kissed him, Yumi immensely turned on by the domination her man was showcasing.
"Hmm, oh baby, yes!" David exchanged loving kisses with Yumi, while also keeping a strong, firm grip on her butt cheeks. Both loving and strong, David was displaying all the attributes that made him become the man Yumi wanted.
"Yes, baby! Yes! Yes!" he said as he drilled his cock inside her, moving his large frame with natural masculine finesse.
Since being with Yumi, David had added muscle to his body and cardio to his workout, his committed relationship with this gorgeous Asian woman having made his daily gym visits a much-worthy investment of his time. As evidenced by his performance in the bedroom, David was successful in transforming himself into a man who didn't just bring home the bacon - he also brought home the beef. And it showed too.
"Ohh! Ahh, so hard, ohh so hard, ah, ah!" Yumi groaned in response, fully embracing the role of the submissive damsel, her strong knight having his way with her.
As the happy couple kept at it, Akira watched while pleasuring himself, an action both out of habit and from choice. The usually selfless, level-headed son was getting perhaps a little envious of the man that was performing passionate sexual acts to his cherished mother. Akira felt more tinges of envy when he saw exactly what David was sticking inside his mother: his large bare cock. David then turned to his side, letting Akira get a good look at his mother's whole backside as David slammed his large tree trunk past her dark bushy wilderness area.
"Ohhhh," she moaned into his shoulder. "Ohhh, ohhhh, Day-vid, Day-vid, ohhhhh, oh, ohhhhh!"
David was going hard, Yumi surrendering, allowing her man to do as he will, allowing him to use her as his primal release vassal. Akira was seeing a whole new side to his mother, she no longer the strong, confident woman that Akira knew, she having turned into something different, something unfamiliar to the boy that had known her for her whole life: Akira saw his mother as a kept woman.
The dynamics were as clear as day: David was in complete control, his hands and stance dictating where his woman went. Akira was in awe as he watched David slam his cock in and out, smacking it in with no attempts at giving pleasure, just receiving. Akira had thought David was a totally passive man, but David proved he wasn't, because what Akira saw was a man that was embracing his masculinity to the fullest. David was a nice guy, oh for sure, a great man, a good person, but, also, an alpha male that loved sex his way, in 100% complete control. And Yumi? She loved being that kind of woman, loved being his woman, the woman who, in no better terms, went into that bedroom, stripped naked, got on her back, opened her legs, and proudly became his undeniable bitch. That, the deeper context of what Akira was seeing, his mother and father-figure in this most primal act, was much more taboo than the actual sexual acts. It was something no son should ever watch, something Akira should not have been watching...but he carried on regardless.
"Uh! Uh! Uh!" David grunted loudly, proudly, letting his manliness come through. "Oh yeah baby, yeah, hmmm, come on baby, oh yeah! Yes, yes, yes! Yes!"
David held Yumi's leg while slamming deeper, faster. At that angle, Akira could see the penetration, the long instrument violating his mother's most sacred area. Akira focused harder, harder than ever, and with his strong resolve, a new power was awoken: To Akira's amazement, he was able to enhance his vision to inhuman levels. This was a gift from the one that rested inside him, giving Akira the ability to see the action in crystal-clear clarity. This HD-zoom set Akira well over the edge of erotic sanity; pants off, his hand around Little Aki, he watched with focused intent as the juices flew out of his mother's vagina, the liquids roaring out with each hard thrust of David's iron rod.
"Ohhh yeah, yes, yes, yes!" he said loudly, his victorious cries echoing around the room, and into the halls. "Yes, yes, ohhhh baby!"
Despite their lovemaking having gone past thirty heavy-packed minutes, David still had much left in his tank: he turned around, got on his back, and got Yumi on top, riding him, but with no elegant grace this time around, just a sweaty cum-stained bitch jumping up-and-down her man's big cock.
"Ohhh! Day-vid, Day-vid!" she squealed. "Let me, let me, please..." Yumi put her hands on David's chest and got ready to show him her newest sexual technique: with his cock still inserted inside her, she spun her body around, and in a flash, had transitioned into reverse cowgirl position.
"Ohhhhh I love you so much," he said outloud, so moved by his Japanese lover's sexual prowess. With her back to him, she grinded harder, deeper, shaking her sexy butt, her body quivering from all the titanic pleasure.
"Oh Day-vid! Ahhh! Ahhhh!" she shouted in a totally pleading, submissive tone, the message coming in loud and clear: I'm yours, take me.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" said David as Yumi shook the bed with her hard rhythmic grinding
Akira was a sweaty wreck as this all went on, he stunned beyond belief that this naked, groaning, cock-loving woman that he saw in front of him was his very own mother. For his finish, Akira set his zoom to max, and saw a perversely beautiful set of images: His mother's dark black vaginal hair sweeping against the breeze, the individual beads of sweat rolling down her milky skin, and her soft, mouth-watering, cotton candy-like nipples, all topped off by the most powerful image of them all: his mother's nude body trembling in anticipation for her finale, her crescendo, her orgasm.
"Hurr! Hurr!" David said outloud as he slapped Yumi on the tush. Now, David's rocket was at full, the big one ready to fire with a scorching, inferno-like blast off.
Yumi was groaning loudly, her mouth wide open as she felt it all rising up inside: "Ah! Ah! Ah! Day-vid! Ah, ah, ah!!!"
David also felt it, felt it all roaring inside him. "Ohhhh Yumi, Yumi, I'm -"
Dingdong!
Everyone stopped their sexual activities.
David sighed. "Oh...God damn it, I'll go open it."
Seeing David come for the door, Akira pulled his pants up, ran for the ledge, leapt, and jumped down to the stairs, leaping from one set to the other with the greatest of demonic ease. Reaching the door before David even opened his, sweaty Akira ripped it open, his jaw hitting the floor when he saw who'd come over...
"Hey, we meet again JayKay.... So, this is what you look like without your mask."
On Akira's front porch was the teen he beat to win the Monaco Junior Fight Grand Prix: American Champion Robert Richards. That was not all. A familiar woman stood behind him.
"Lookie here, this a real fancy looking place! I can see myself staying here."
Along with Robert was his mother, a woman who also 'motivated' her son with exotic methods. She had long legs, shoulder-length blonde hair, and large, bountiful breasts. She was Helena Roberts.
"Well look at you, all sweat and muscles," she said with a grin. "You know, without that stupid mask, you're actually quite cute."
***
Ch.02: Piehole Goodness
A day later...
It was the afternoon, the Richards having settled into their new digs. With the boys out to play and train, and Yumi's boyfriend David at work, the house was left to the mothers. They were relaxing at the poolside area, Yumi and her female house guest settling into their lounge chairs.
"Ahhh!" Helena stretched herself out, she wearing a black micro-bikini, the small edges just about covering her most private regions, each swivel movement of her body a mere glimpse away from revealing her erect nipples. The leggy blonde then grabbed her latest bottle of suntan cream.
"May I?" said Yumi, her wonders concealed by a bright purple bikini-top and a hi-riding thong that accentuated her peachy delights.
"Please," replied Helena as she turned around, her back and buttocks beneath the roaring sun.
Yumi lathered her soft hands and rubbed ever-so-softly over Helena's body, using her martial artist's precision to spread the cream evenly over the woman's back.
"Good?" asked Yumi.
"Oh great, baby, great. Umm, you mind gettin' a little on my butt, too?"
Yumi saw the power-play being manoeuvred by this wily American woman: a seemingly innocent gesture was, in fact, a request of humble servitude. To refuse would be rude, but to accept would be defeat. Not to be underestimated, quick-witted Yumi had an answer.
"Ah, okay," she put her hands on Helena's derrière and rubbed the cream over her toned butt, digging in deep, applying enough pressure to get Helena's pussy lips rubbing against her cloth thong. After Yumi finished showcasing her power, she gave Helena a friendly pat on the butt, one that seemed innocent, but a tap that sent shockwaves through Helena's back and leg muscles. Message sent: Yumi was not to be messed with.
"Hmm, thanks babe." Helena's respect level for the mother of her son's rival went up, well up. Helena now knew that Yumi was not just any woman: she was a smart one. Helena also knew that she and Yumi, despite their divergent backgrounds, were remarkably similar.
"So the boy's father not around?" asked Helena.
Yumi shook her head. "No, he in Japan. How about you?"
"Him? I kicked that ol' no-good sumbitch's ass to the curb years back. Yeah, it's just me and my boy, always has been. My main focus is to get him to the top of the fighting world, ya know what I mean?" Helena reached for her wineglass. "Hey! Here's to us independent moms from both ends of this ol' world."
Yumi smiled, and grabbed her juice. "Cheers," she said as they clinked glasses.
Helena chugged down her wine. "Umm, honey, let me tell you, I ain't seen an Asian woman built like you before, trust me, you so, umm, what does Cindy call it? Uhh, oh yeah: bootylicious."
"Boo-tee-licious?"
"Oh hell yeah! Honey: the butt, the boobs, let me tell you, you meet some of my brothers, cousin brothers, uncles, oh Jesus, they'd love you. Girlfriend you a man-magnet, I swear."
Yumi giggled. "No, thank you. I like my man."
Helena slapped her forehead before reaching for another refill. "Well, duh? How silly of me. I keep forgetting you got the goldmine right here! Girl, you come to America and you get yourself a millionaire before even getting a green card. You're something special," she took another sip of her wine before saying, "Have you given him your ass?"
Yumi blushed. "Umm, I, I...that personal, no?"
"Pfft? Not for me! Honey, you don't need to tell me anything about yourself - but let me tell you about my last boyfriend: The QB for my son's high school, a meaty six-five black stallion, ummmmmmm," Helena tactfully rubbed her fingers over her clit as memories of Marcus Driver came flashing back to her. "Girl, let me tell you all the ways we did it - and how."
Yumi grinned, nodded and said, "Go on..."
The mothers chatted about sex positions, car sex, and just why it's always best to never meet the mother of your teen boyfriend. Halfway into Helena's confessional, the women were interrupted when they heard a high-pitched yelp coming from the gates.
"Eee! My GOD! Come on!" shouted Mike, "Both, both, both -"
"Hey!" shouted Helena, "Quit your perving you weird little kid!"
Yumi tapped Helena's arm. "Hella-nah, Hella-nah, that Day-vid's boy."
"Oh is he? Oh that's right, he is, isn't he? I thought he was a housekeeper's kid or somethin'."
Robert and Akira walked behind Mike, and when those sons saw their bikini-clad mothers, their mouths hung wide open.
"Mom!" shouted Robert, "You look HOT! - "
"Shut yo piehole mister!" interrupted his mother, "You ain't seeing any of this goodness up close, you hear? You're still being punished for that runner-up finish. Now get, get!"
Robert sighed, "Okay, Mom." He tapped fists with Mike and Akira, "We work on that eight-direction run later?"
Akira nodded. "Yes, sure."
"Cool, cool." Robert went back into the house.
Yumi whispered over to Helena. "Your son like seeing you like... this?"
Helena was wide-eyed and stunned: she thought Yumi wouldn't be able to fully understand her fast-talking southern dialect and sayings.
"What? No, no, it's, it's what boys do, I mean, I was talking about you really, haha, yeah, he loves Asians, all his girlfriends are Asian girls, yeah."
Yumi gave a nod. "Right." She'd just gained vital info and was making sure not to forget it - but Helena had a killer counter attack.
"Hey boys!" she shouted at Mike and Akira, "You sweaty little things need to cool down, you're both so dirty. Go on, cool down in this water here - oh, and do it 'country style', let's get you boys naked!"
Under Mike-logic, if a hot woman asks you to get naked, you do it, whatever the situation. He started ripping his clothes off within seconds
Akira looked perplexed as he saw his friend strip naked for seemingly no reason.
"What you doing?" Akira asked.
"Come on! She said she wants us in the pool, naked! Naked! No clothes."
"Ah, I see," Akira began disrobing.
Fearing her son's other raging purple demon was about to be exposed, Yumi shouted at her son in their native language:
"Son, don't get naked, just go in your underwear."
He looked at his sparkling mother and nodded. "Hai."
Average-bodied Mike jumped in first. "Woo!" he made a big splash when he entered. Akira took the more sensible tact by walking down the pool stairs.
Helena licked her lips when she got a good look at the bronzed, lean, muscular Akira. "Hmm, you have a beautiful boy, Yumi."
This comment sent a cold shiver down the infallible Yumi's body: Helena showing interest in her son was something much unexpected.
Helena carried on: "Woo! Would you look at those muscles? Hot! Does he work out? You must tell me his diet, I want my boy having six-pack abs like that, and with strong, thick legs like your son's! Woo!."
Yumi was a second away from bitch-slapping the jailbait out off Helena. Even the intent was a dangerous deed: Helena was walking poison for Akira. A sexual meeting between the venomous energy of Helena and the sleeping demon inside Akira would trigger a huge wave of vile, dark, repressed emotion out of the teen boy. The only woman who could give Akira sexual satisfaction was his mother - and that was not out of jealousy or desire on Yumi's part, it was just the facts, as her heavenly grace was the only proper satisfaction for him.
Knowing they'd stepped onto very dangerous territory, Yumi played coy. "Yes, my son work very, very hard in gym, but technique most important, yes, proper technique."
Helena agreed. "Yeah, yeah, steel sharpens steel is what my daddy used to say. I think it fits them boys and their training too. They're only gonna get stronger if they work together, right?"
"Yes, good for both."
"Oh yes, and I'm making sure my boy gets the most out of this experience, gonna beef him up, get him up a weight-class, get his speed and power up, no one will touch him- no one! And we'll be at the tippity-top again!"
Meanwhile, in the pool, the nude Mike was talking in hushed whispers to Akira.
"Come on, wow, look at our mom! And look at Rob's mom! The boobs on that woman! Wow! Her son said she was hot! Wow! Think him and his mom do things!? Wow, hold on; look at the butt on our mom! Wow! Did I mention how glad I am I met you guys?"
Akira nodded while keeping a safe distance away from Mike. "Yes, I'm very happy here."
Akira's words were true, he was happy, and more joyful when he gazed upon the two gorgeous beauties in front of him. He looked at the experienced delights of his mother, smiling happily at him, a warm, white, heavenly glow exuding out from her- but, to the right, releasing a inciting valentine red aura, giving Akira an alluring look, was Helena Roberts, her tongue going slowly around her lips, her large breasts heaving. Helena had succeeded with her seduction methods, having got Akira stiff as a boulder underneath that hot, hot water.
***
Ch.03: Red Letter Day
Evening time and David comes home to see his son naked and floating in the pool.
David shook his head. "Can you even try explaining yourself, Mike?"
Mike looked over at his Dad. "Umm, ahh..."
"Where are the others?"
"They're inside."
"Okay...put some damn pants on, you'll catch a cold."
"Yes, Dad..."
Inside the house, Yumi wore a small white t-shirt and tiny black shorts over her bikini-top and thong, while Helena had a tight dress covering her micro-bikini-clad body. The two women were in the kitchen, Yumi doing the cooking while Helena watched in gawped amazement.
"Tell me again why you're cooking?" asked the bemused never-cooking Helena as she held an apple.
"I, ah, I want to know what my son eats, I responsible for his diet."
"Oh that? Pfft! I let someone else take care of all that for my kid...you're feeding him the same stuff, right?
Yumi nodded while she stirred the pot. "Yes, he our guest."
"Right, right, well I guess it's okay since your son beat my son and all, you must be doing somethin' right," replied Helena while chomping on the apple.
At this time, Akira sneaked down to the kitchen area, pausing when he saw the swaying behinds of Helena and his mother. He watched them both, admiring in equal parts the firm tightness of Helena's behind, and the beauty and grace of his mother's juicy butt. Then, Helena left, leaving Akira to gaze exclusively at his mother. The perverted son was longing and lusting, locked on his mother's amazingly curvaceous behind, the ultra-tight, super-tiny black shorts making his mother's derrière just pop.
Then, David came in, entering from the backdoor. He paused when he saw Akira, standing by a shelf, watching from afar. From closer analysis, David could clearly see that Akira was checking out his mother's ass. This David was disturbed by: seeing his girlfriend's son just stuck, looking, not moving, his hands rubbing against his pants as he watched his very own mother in such a dirty, dirty way. David had to step in.
"Ahem, hey Son," David said quietly, patting his entranced surrogate son on the shoulder.
"Oh!" Akira leapt, shaken by the intrusion. "Ah, umm, hello." Akira turned and briskly walked up the stairs.
David knew what that body language, surprise, shock, and look all meant: Akira had been caught doing something dirty. Having countless similar experiences with Mike, David was confident in his assertion: Akira was perving on his mother. Setting the experience aside for the moment, David approached his woman.
"Hello, Yumi," he got behind her, kissed her cheek and patted her bum.
"Hello," she said with a warm smile.
"Umm, everything been okay?"
"Fine."
"How about the new arrivals?"
Yumi put her spatula near her lips while thinking, "Umm, Rob, he good boy, he nice, but his mother..." she looked to the side before saying, "She bad, bad woman."
"Hmm, well, she does seem a little...Don't worry, we'll sort out any problems -" David paused when he remembered a problem he'd just discovered: Yumi's son having the hots for his own mother.
"Hmm? Anything I need to know?" she asked.
Seeing that she was already burdened with Helena-related problems, David decided to keep this issue to himself.
"Nothing, nothing to worry about."
"Okay. We talk when dinner done, okay?"
"Yes dear," David bent down, kissed Yumi's cream-coated lips, and then exited the kitchen, determined to deal with this issue personally.
David went up the stairs, onward to Akira's room for a much needed talk.
*
Knock, knock.
Akira jolted awake from his mid-evening slumber.
"Ahem, come, come."
"It's me," David creaked open the door, "Can we talk?"
"Oh yes, yes." Akira sat on his bed.
"Good, yeah," David sat next to him. "Now, we've not talked much, have we? Like, not really talk?"
Akira nodded. "Yes."
"Yes, yeah, see, well, there's some...things I think need explaining, things about me and your mother."
"...Yes."
"We're together, like, really together," David rubbed his hands together to illustrate his vague point. "We're a couple, yes, understand that?"
"Yes, I, ah, do."
"Meaning we...do things together, romantic things...sexual things."
That set a spark off in Akira's gut. "Yes, I understand."
"Good, because, well, I'm just going to say it...I saw you."
Akira gave David a blank look. He scratched his index finger on his cheek and replied, "Saw...me? I not understand."
"I saw you...in the kitchen...looking at your mother...in a bad way, a wrong way."
Akira felt a tinge of pain in his chest: he'd been caught, his sacred secret semi-exposed. He didn't have a response, so he just stared at the ground.
"And, Son, it's....well it's not okay, but you're not in trouble. Maybe things were different back in Japan, I don't know, maybe you thought it was fine to look at her body in that way, but now, Son, it's not, because she's my woman and she's your mother. Those lines are clear, you understand?"
Akira understood, and he understood the position David was in. Yet, inside him, little fireflies of jealousy flickered around, leaving behind sinister thoughts: "You're being told what to do by this man, this man that's not even your father? This man that has openly defiled your mother? You saw what we did to her in the bedroom! Why are you taking crap from him, why him? Why!"- Akira shut the voices out within seconds. He overpowered his emotions, and came to a tactile decision.
"I sorry," he said with his eyes locked on David, "I...sorry and not do it again."
"Good, good," he gingerly patted young Akira on the back, "Don't worry, I'll keep it to myself, once is okay, because, I mean, Jesus, if I had a mother who looked like that! I'm sure I'd check out her butt, too!"
Akira didn't fully comprehend the joke, but he understood the context: "Yes, funny. But I sorry, really, I not do again, thank you Sir for...thank you," he said with a half-smile.
David stood up, "Glad we got that all dealt with. So... see ya at dinner."
"Yes, sorry, again."
David smiled before closing the door. "Forget about it, it's all fine."
Door shut, Akira laid on his bed, thinking one thing, one conclusion: he needed to be more careful when checking out his mom.
*
It was dinner time for the Rochefort-Shibata clan and their guests the Roberts. David sat at the head of the table, to his left Yumi and to his right Akira. Seated next to Akira was Robert, next to Yumi was Helena, Mike was at the far end.
Whilst eating, Robert talked fighting techniques with Akira.
"So when you go for the takedown, you should really put your shoulders into it," advised Robert. "Tackle, then go for the legs."
Akira nodded intently. "Yes, ah yes, okay, okay."
Yumi was happy to see her son making friends, but was also wary of Helena, the blonde bombshell gazing with menacing lusting eyes at the two teen boys.
"Ah, Helena," said Yumi, trying to draw Helena's attention away from the boys.
"Yes, sweetie?"
"Umm, please, tell us about you and your son."
This question stumped Helena. "Hmm, well, you know about my son over there, he's a prodigy, you know that? Haha, his talent is something else, he's so going to rebound from this loss, isn't that right, Son?"
Robert stuck his thumb out and winked. "Yeah!"
"Well, anyway, you asked about me? Well, I'm from North Carolina, you know where that is Yumi?"
"Yes."
"Yeah, we're from a small town, but we're working our way up thanks to my boy's talent, uh-huh, our way into the good life is all on him. And you asked me what my ideal man is, right, Yumi?"
"Umm."
"Well, I'd say, hmm, gots to be young, oh I like 'em young. Sorry, Son, but I wanna keep dating boys around your age."
Robert looked at his plate and said quietly, "I know Mom, I know."
"That's right, umm, oh yeah, they gots to be toned, a toned body is a must, oh, and dark hair, love the dark hair - oh, oh and tanned! I like my men to be bronzed," as she listed these attributes, Helena stretched her leg forward and wiggled her toes around Akira's shin. Not aware of the signals she was sending, Akira thought Helena had mistakenly lodged her foot on his leg. Though he felt it was innocent, his member didn't: it went from semi to full.
"And," Helena quickly pulled her foot back before getting caught, "He has to be a sweetheart."
"Wow," said Mike. "If you don't mind me saying, I think you're gorgeous Miss Richards, inside and out."
"Hey!" said Robert, "That's my mom you're talking to."
"It's fine," Helena said with a big smile, "He's just giving a compliment. Thank you so much, little boy. I'm sure your parents are very proud of you."
"Uhh," Yumi tapped Helena on the shoulder and pointed out David.
"Oh shoot," giggled Helena. "I keep forgetting who he is."
"I don't think he minds," said David.
"Yeah, it's okay," replied Mike, "I don't mind when pretty women forget who I am."
Everyone smiled and laughed. Surprisingly, the dinner was full of much joy and warmth, everyone having a good time. As the dinner went on, Yumi became less and less focused on Helena, and more on her boyfriend and her family, seeing them happy, the easy life glowing in front of her. In fact, Yumi was starting to warm to Helena, as shown by this exchange:
While David was talking to the boys, Helena leaned over to Yumi and whispered in her ear. "Hey, just curious here," Helena pointed to two table knifes: a butter knife and a longer meat cutting one, "Out of the two....which is closer to your man's pecker?"
Yumi blushed and giggled like a schoolgirl. "Oh, oh, easy, easy," she pointed to the long knife, her finger tapping it with rapid strikes. "This, this, this."
They both burst into laughter, both women giggling together.
After everyone had finished eating, they all went to their respective bedrooms. Inside the master bedroom, Yumi expressed her surprise.
"Day-vid, Helena, she okay, yes? When she said Akira a handsome boy, she was just being polite, yes? That what women in America do...right?"
"Oh I'm sure that's it," he said from the adjunct bathroom.
"Hmm...still, Day-vid, I worry about Helena, I don't know, her looks to Akira, that, hmm...I don't know."
"Her looks to Akira?" David was bemused by that comment. "Yumi, you think she has her sights on Akira? I mean, sure, he's a good-looking boy, I can see girls taking in an interest in him, but not a full-grown woman like Helena."
"Hmm, I don't know, Day-vid...maybe...I think you're right, yes, I just being silly."
David opened the bathroom door and came striding out. His built body was gleaming wet, his white boxers showing a clear python-like outline. Yumi blushed, and felt her panties get immediately damp.
David strode over to his woman and held her in his strong arms. "Yumi, there's nothing to worry about, there's no way Helena would want your son in that way, no, not even possible, so please, don't worry. And, Yumi, if you're still worried, I can make her leave, just say the word and she'll be gone in the morning."
Yumi considered that for a second, but shook her head. "No, no, Akira have friend, Akira need friend...I just being silly, I think too much, I just worry about nothing."
He kissed her cheek. "Everything will be fine, promise."
"Thank you," Yumi was fully reassured by her man's words. So, after her motherly fears and concerns were washed away, Yumi felt herself slipping into her primal womanly state, ready for duty.
"Now," he grabbed her shorts, peeled them down, and took a good, hard feel of her juicy butt, "Let's have some fun."
Yumi felt a strong surge of warmth quell up inside her as David groped her backside.
"Yes, please," she said with a wet smile and happy nod.
So while Yumi and David engaged in their heated attempts to improve race-relations, in the bathroom, Akira, in his shorts, was finishing brushing his teeth. He was on his way to his bed, when, suddenly, the door opened, and, stood in front of him was a tall, leggy woman. His mouth hit the floor when he saw her step out of the shadows and into the bathroom.
"Whoops? You ain't done yet, sweetie?" Helena asked innocently, her tone not at all matching her attire: she was clad in nothing but her bright lingerie: a stripped pink bra and matching frilly thong. Her dynamite body had lit up the dimly-lit room, her skin radiating, exuding sensual confidence, all the while acting like she'd done nothing wrong, looking like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
Akira took a big gulp. "I, I, I -"
"Aw how cute, you look so embarrassed," she bent down, her breasts right in Akira's eyeline, her pretty blue eyes looking right into his soul. "Don't be, it's normal to get..." she looked down at his erect member, then, said with extra added spice: "Excited."
Having her nearly-nude body so close to his drew a huge response from this excited demonic teen: Akira felt his body bubbling with hot emotion, it growing larger and larger with each passing second, his chest getting tighter, profuse amounts of sweat running down his face.
"I, umm, I," words failed him; he was too lost in his emotions, unable to string a sentence together.
"Aw...cute." Helena didn't move, she just continued to look right into his eyes, smiling, transferring her wicked intentions - and he felt them, felt those thoughts hit his soul with an iron fist of sexual delight. As she carried on gazing at him, his breathing got heavier, suddenly, everything got slower, his mind getting sluggish. Then, a surge of new energy drifted in, taking over, leading his actions. Akira felt his hands twitch, moving finger by finger, his shoulders bucking, a set of unknown inputs downloaded, ready to be executed - but, before he could, she stood up and ended their eye contact.
"You're a cute little thang" she said casually, "Gettin' all worked up," she scuffled his hair, then, kneeled down and kissed his forehead. The moment her lips touched his skin, the tight feelings all over his body went upward and submerged to that spot, resting and festering.
Helena turned and walked back through the shadows, Akira's eyes locked on her thong-adored toned behind.
"Hey, if it eva' gets too cold 'round here," she said in a hushed tone, "You can always snuggle up with me... I'll keep you warm, honey." she smiled with a devilish red glimmer in her eyes. She then walked away silently, through the darkness.
Akira tried to compose himself, but couldn't stop shaking. Then, he touched his forehead, where Helena had kissed him, felt around the area, then, looked at his fingers. He saw red. Thinking it was lipstick, he tried rubbing it off, but instead... it dripped off. It was blood: bright red blood.
***
Ch.04: Burst Limit
This bright sunny day started like any other for the domesticated Yumi Shibata: naked, on top, riding her white American lover David.
"Hmmm, keep going, that's it," he said as he kept his eyes firmly locked on his beautiful partner, her angelic face looking down at him with a sweat-stained glee, her breasts bouncing as his quick release got closer.
"Har-der?" she asked.
"Please," he put his hands on her enviable butt, and held on tightly as he felt a huge rush coming from his member, his sex-powered Asian dynamo having rode him to completion.
"Ohhh, I love it, love..." he pulled her down and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. "Ohhhh I love it!"
"Me...too," she gave him a warm, gentle smile, and then dismounted.
David watched Yumi walk naked around the bedroom, wiping down her milky-soft round sexy body with those satin bed sheets. This got David's member more than semi-attentive: he felt another go-around was in the books - but then remembered he had to go to work. Business-minded David got out of his bed, put his robe on, and went onward to the shower, making sure he not look at his woman, as just one glance at her sweaty nude bouncy frame would have him and her back in that bed.
Outside, in the garden, Akira and Robert were training, working on their jabs. As they did some gentle sparing, Akira thought about the two women in his life: his mother Yumi and his friend's mother Helena. Akira had blonde bombshell Helena foremost in his thoughts, remembering the events from that past night. As a teen that didn't have much experience with the ladies, Akira summarised that Helena was not showing sexual affection, but instead was being polite, nice to him, showing him kindness, and nothing else...though he wasn't fully convinced with that theory.
Having questions, Akira thought the best person to ask would be the person in front of him - Helena's son Robert.
"Ahh, Robert," he stopped fighting and stood still, "Umm, your mother, is she, ahh, umm, friendly to...boy?"
"Huh? Sorry dude, didn't get that."
"Umm, ahh, your mother is friendly woman to other boy? She...like boy?"
"Come on, dude," Robert said with a snarl, "I don't want to talk about my mom like that, okay? It's not cool, I don't like it when people at school do it, and I don't like it when you do it, too. Seriously, if you weren't my friend, I'd have punched you in the face already, so, please, don't mention her."
"I, ahh," Akira was taken aback by the hostile reaction. "I, sorry, not happen again."
"Thanks dude, now let's try that up-kick."
"Yes."
Back inside the house, in the spacious bathroom, inside the shower, David was scrubbing down, almost finished when Yumi walked in, holding her clothes and clad only in a robe.
"Yumi? That you?" he said from behind the curtain.
"Yes."
In that nanosecond, a naughty idea came into his head, one he couldn't deny himself. David tore open the curtain, revealing his naked wet self.
"Yumi, I think I can use your help with something," he said with a grin while holding his fully erect cock.
In that quick flash, Yumi's womanly desires had taken over: her son's pancakes could wait; first she needed to put her hands on her man's thick member. Yumi tore her robe off and strode over to David.
"I think I help," she said with a girly giggle. Yumi got behind David, placed her cheek on his broad rippling back, put one hand on his leg, and the other around his boa, tugging the wet, soapy instrument with her soft delicate hand.
"Ohhhh that's it," said David, "That's the way."
In the garden, Akira felt that familiar feeling from before, the same one he'd felt yesterday, the power that let him know that his parents were up to some torrid business. With that knowledge in mind, he threw a hard jab at Robert, who ducked and saw Akira's fist land onto the grassy floor with a powerful boom.
"Oh damn, that was a heavy punch!" remarked Robert.
Akira picked himself back up, and saw that his glove was tattered into mangled pieces.
"Wow, how'd you do that?" asked Robert.
"I, I do not know," Akira replied honestly. "...I, umm, get new glove from storage room, yes?"
"Yeah, sure."
Akira nodded, and went back into the house. As he trawled up the staircase, his feelings were proven true, as he heard the running shower, followed by the sounds of giggles, both male and female, his mother and David. Akira got to the 3rd floor, right next to the bathroom, and heard the vivid sounds of two bodies rubbing against one another, then, much to his surprise, he heard something he had first hand remembrance of: his mother's hand on his member, tugging and releasing. Akira was quickly able to summarise what his mother's dirty deed was.
Was Akira angry? No, not really. But was he jealous? Even he'd admit, yes, a little. But was he turned on by the fact that his hot Japanese mother was jerking off her white American lover in the shower? Oh hell yes. After a minute of listening in, Akira remembered what he came for - and also suddenly comprehended the risk of getting caught, so he reluctantly walked past the bathroom and went onward to the end of the hallway, to the storage closet.
Akira kept his steps short, letting his ears absorb the symphony of rub-and-tug. As Akira listened to the biracial sex acts, his member grew more erect, his body glowing bright red. Then, as he was walking, something caught his attention, a glimpse that he saw from the corner of his eye. Akira stopped, paused, and looked to his right. His parents had left their bedroom door wide open, and inside that room, dangling around the bedpost, was a piece of fabric flowing gently beneath the wind: his mother's white frilly thong.
Akira tightened his body instantly when he saw it; his hands into fists, his toed curled, his mouth losing all its moisture, his eyes glued to the exotic taboo fabric. He admired the fine, delicate details: the strings, the bows, the satin, in addition to the knowledge that his mother wore this tantalising piece of clothing on her person, it tucked neatly into her most private region. The seconds ticked away as Akira remained frozen, inside him a raging storm emerging, filling up, up, till he felt the dormant powers awaken, they reaching him and bestowing him with his demonic ability of enhanced high-vision. Akira zoomed in and was able to see the greater details, and as the image got brighter and bolder, so did the revelations: He was able to see the small beads of vaginal sweat collected on the thong, stepping forward a little closer to see that this sweat was mixed in with his mother's juices. Also, along the edge was one long dangling strand of jet-black hair, glued inside as a sordid reminder of his mother's feminine instincts.
Akira had his hands to his sides as he watched this majestic vision, yet already he could feel his member reach boiling point. Then, Akira decided that looking was not enough, oh no: he had to do something which went against his morals, which showed disrespect towards his sacred mother: he had to expand his senses, go forward, and take a good long feel of the mouth-watering majesty.
Akira looked to the bathroom and heard the shower still running: he had time to do this. A massive inner turmoil went on inside him, with the darker forces persistent, so much so that they quickly turned his mind toward one conclusion: he had to get nearer. So Akira took small steps forward into the bedroom, tiptoeing, getting closer, closer, able to see the pure visceral energy springing out from his mother's undergarment. Akira then got closer, closer, till he was at touching distance.
"Go on," said that deep inner voice, making itself vocal inside Akira's confused and conflicted head. "Touch, touch, hold, touch, hold, touch, hold."
Akira tried lifting his arms so he could hold the holy cloth in his hands, but, much to his shock, his arms wouldn't move. Not an even inch, they just would not budge; it was as if two heavy weights had been attached to each side. The champion fighter tried lifting his arms again, yet nothing, still too heavy. The demonic voice was fading: something had silenced it; Akira was back to lucid thought. Realising his predicament, and not wishing to be stuck in this compromising position, Akira thought it would be best to retreat from this battle. He turned his feet, ready to walk away, walk away from the warm heavenly bliss in front of him, deciding that this perverted detour was over...but, as he was already there, one quick inhale seemed like a good enough consolation. That wasn't his demonic side talking, just his horny teen urges.
So, Akira got himself steady, pushed his head forward, opened his nostrils, and with his airways wide open, he inhaled.
"Hmmm," in that brief split-second, he was not in the Rochefort home, nor America, nor anywhere in that world: he was transported to a garden of roses, the aroma a combined mixture of his mother's scent, the sweetest roses, and the freshest of airs, his body regenerated, a bright light filling him with a soothing warmth ...but then, he came back, his eyes open, looking at his mother's thong. Then, in slow-motion, Akira saw a circle develop around the thong, this circle pulsating with a hum, growing larger, larger. Before Akira could figure out what was going on, the shockwave of energy burst and sent him flying to the floor.
"What?" he asked himself as he lay on his back, he seemingly having been thrown to the floor by the scent of his mother's thong. Akira jumped up and walked backwards, still bemused. Then, while in this trance, he bumped into something, something long, hard, and fleshy.
"Well, ain't you just a naughty little oriental boy?"
Akira turned around and saw Helena Roberts, a towel around her body, her hands behind her back, giving him a devilish, knowing grin.
Akira rushed out of the room and tried covering himself up.
"No, I, I, umm, I not do bad, I not do bad."
"Oh hush honey-monster," she replied. "You ain't done nuthin' wrong, you were just being a boy is all." Helena looked inside the bedroom. "Is that the kinda underwear she wearing? Huh? Pretty run-of-the-mill if you ask me." Helena put her hands to her front, showing that she was holding her clothes. She then looked through them, picked one piece out, and what she held in her fingers made Akira burst in an instant. No pre-cum, just the real deal flowing down his legs in a sign of youthful exuberance.
"I see Mr. Happy just let himself out!" she giggled while holding, in her fingers, her Victoria's Secret, crimson red, all-over lace thong.
"You need to work on that whole premature releasin' thang, it's somethin' us ladies ain't impressed by...but you doing it, I find it kinda cute."
Akira held his pants and tightened his legs, overcome by the lust in front of him, behind him, and to the side. He had to retreat, so he dashed into the storage room and shut it tight. Inside that room, his mind was shut, not thinking, just listening. He first heard Helena giggle, then, his parents coming out of the shower.
"Had fun?" asked Helena.
"Ahh, umm," Yumi, wearing her robe, had her hair soaked and her cheeks a bright shade of red. "You can use now..."
"Is it clean? I know a couple like you in love an' all is gonna be releasin' lots of love' cream."
"It's, it's clean," replied a quite embarrassed robe-clad David. He grabbed Yumi's shoulders and sped the two of them down the stairs.
"Aw don't be all embarrassed now!" said Helena, "You only doing what comes natural...what 'comes' natural, haha, I'm funny," Helena went inside and slammed the bathroom door shut. But, seconds later, it opened, and Helena's bare feet could be heard approaching Akira's little hole. She opened the closet door, finding him in a crotched position.
"Here," she threw a roll of tissues at him, "I think you'll need them."
***
Ch.05: J.H.C
After finishing up in the closet, Akira rushed back to the field. Robert wasn't happy with this late arrival:
"Dude!? You've been gone for twenty minutes!"
"Sorry, replied Akira, "Your mother -"
Robert raised his voice, "My mom!? What!? What she do!?"
"...She and I talk."
"For that long? You can barely speak English! Fuck! Something weird is going on, I'm going to speak to her."
Robert threw his gloves down and stormed into the house.
Akira felt bad about making his friend angry, so he followed him into the house to apologise, but stopped when he heard Helena shouting at her boy.
"You want WHAT!?"
"Just, just a little to tide me over," said Robert, "Please, just a feel, or a touch, just one handjob, and I'll be good."
"Was I born yesterday? You ain't getting' nothin' boy, how clear did I make that? No kisses, no handjobs, blowjobs, rimjobs, none of it till you go and win a God damn belt! You know what you get if you do that? Me, naked in your race car bed, chips, coke, lotion, oils, we'll do it all night! But you ain't gettin' it now."
Robert rubbed himself. "Hmmm, that sounds soooo~ good. Please, the next tournament is not for months, I can't wait that long, please give me something before that."
"Hmm," Helena rubbed her chin, "How about puttin' a whooping on that kid?"
Thankfully, Akira didn't understand what Helena had said as he could only hear raised, mumbled voices.
"Mom~," replied Robert, "He's my friend, I don't want to fight him at his house."
"Your friend? He ended your undefeated record! He's your enemy, no friends in fighting! Look, if you ever want this," Helena turned around and shook her butt, "Yeah? This rump in your face, you beat him - and beat him good."
Robert sighed. "Fine...I'll challenge him to a fight, but what do I get if I win?"
"Strip club special: You get a lapdance, you can cop a feel within reachin' distance, no pussy though. Pay me a hundred for a blowjob."
"Deal!"
Before Robert could reach for the door, Akira leapt away to a safe distance.
Back on the field, Robert came rushing over to Akira with added vigour in his step.
"Akira! Me! You! I want my rematch! Here, nine, let's do it!"
Akira didn't understand perfect English - but he was fluent in fighting talk.
"Yes!"
The two teens shook on it and went their separate ways to train.
As Akira walked down the field, the patio door opened. It was Helena, clad in a pink robe.
"Psst, Aki-ara, Aki-ara."
Despite her mispronunciation, Akira went over to her.
"Hey, listen, if you go ahead and win, you know his deal? You get it."
"...I not understand."
"You get what he gets for winning! Me! You get me!"
"I get...you? For?"
Helena threw her hands up in the air.
"Jesus-H-Christ," she put her hands on his cheeks, leaned down and spoke very slowly: "If. You. Win. Your. Fight. You and me. We will have sex, okay? We will have sex, me and you, together."
The light finally shone. "Oh...oh! Really!?"
"Yes, really, and remember this when you train," Helena looked around, then put her hands down low, brushed aside her robe, pulled her thong down, and revealed a new wonder in Little Aki's universe.
"Look 'er boy: this ain't no fluffy fur show like your mama got going on: This full, bare, naked, good-ol'-girl pussy."
As he gazed upon this new discovery of tasty bare flesh, marvelling at the quivering lips and salivating at the yummy-looking pink meat, Akira felt his energy meter go all the way to purple. He couldn't waste time just looking: he had to fight for the right to lick it!
"Osu!" he turned and ran.
Helena chuckled.
"Heh, boys...They'd kill for a slice of pussy, hee-hee."
***
Final Chapter: I'll Be Ready
Back in Japan, Yumi Shibata was a world champion-calibre martial artist. In her prime, her body was sculpted from years of hard, diligent training. Even as a mother, she found time to do her daily chores, an hour of tantric crowd-pleasing yoga, and working out with weights, all with the aim of keeping herself in tip-top fit fighting shape. But, after moving away from her homeland, things had changed...
Yumi in America had her days mapped out like this: after she'd given her boyfriend morning sex and/or a handjob in the shower, she served her son and Mike their breakfast. Later that morning she spent around thirty-minutes doing some yoga positions - and only those positions that kept her flexible in the bedroom. After that was done, she went back to her comfy bed, falling blissfully asleep, planning to wake whenever the warm breeze brushed against her face.
On this day, after having given her man his morning release, laid out her son's breakfast, and finished her relaxing yoga session, she was off to bed to sleep the morning away. Little she knew that her laissez-faire way of mothering was coming back to bite her on her round juicy butt...
*
Back on the field, Akira was training like he'd never had before, his speed, power, at new, higher levels, pushing himself to the limits for this contest.
Mike, holding pancakes, was the first to notice the spilt in the camps. Able to see the two of them on far ends of the field, he quickly made his choice and went over to his pseudo step-brother.
"Hey, Akira, you missed breakfast, I got you some. Hey, what's up with you and Robert training alone?"
"We fight," he said while performing push-ups.
"What? Come on! Here? Seriously, you had a frigging crowd of thousands watching you two go at it: Dude, save it for pay-per-view!"
Akira shook his head. "No, we fight for...good, good prize."
"Money? Not Dad's money?"
"No, no, no, not money."
"What then?"
"...Uhh...joy."
"Joy? Well, I don't know, guess it's a Japanese thing. Well, bro, I'm here to help, but I won't get hurt."
Akira gave a half-smile. "No, I never hurt you again, you my friend."
"Your friend? Come on! I'm your brother, get it right! Now let's get you throwing some jabs, come on!"
*
Around 3pm, Yumi woke up, looked outside her window, and saw that Akira was training feverishly, gritted determination on his face as he ran down the field with a heavy bag over his shoulders, back-and-forth, his sweat filling the air with heat.
Half-asleep Yumi opened her window and saw Mike down below.
"Mikey, what Akira doing?" she asked from her high vantage point.
"Ohh!" Mike gave her his full attention when he saw her: Yumi was wearing a tight white t-shirt, her burgeoning boobies looking very snug indeed.
"Uhhh... he's training for a fight with Robert!" he shouted in response.
"Oh," so dulled were Yumi's senses that she saw no danger forthcoming, unable to see any of the immense spiritual pressure that Akira was exuding. Concluding that her son and his friend were just going to have a little boy practice match, she said the following:
"Make sure he eat something."
"Okay, Mama! -" thankfully, Yumi didn't hear Mike's Freudian slip; she was too busy thinking about her bubble bath.
Later, at 7pm, Akira was resting against a tree, eating a pre-match snack, a towel around his shoulders, Mike taking the corner man role:
"All right bro, you go for the fake, then a one-two, one-two combo, hit him with a good overhand left, bam, kick the legs out from under him, get on top, and ground and pound him!"
David had just arrived back home, and saw his boys sitting on the field.
"Hey, guys, what's going on?" he asked.
"Not much," replied Mike, "Yeah, Akira and Robert are just going to have a practice fight."
"Oh okay," he said without knowing that this 'practice fight' was to be much more dangerous and full-on than most actual brawls. "Well, you kids come in when your mom tells you to."
"Okay, Dad," said Mike.
Akira nodded blankly as he ate his rice cake, busy inside his own mind, visualizing the fight, the situations, and his desired outcome.
When they first fought, the size difference between Robert and Akira was negated by Akira's weight advantage : Robert was taller (5'9) yet lankier (125lbs), while Akira was shorter (5'6) yet stronger (142lbs). Now, Akira's weight advantage had been lessened as Robert had added mass to his frame, going from 125lbs to 135lbs. Akira, at 144lbs, had his only advantage pretty much negated: all he could do was out-skill his taller foe. Furthermore, the stakes had been upped by a significant amount: their prize, what they were fighting for, was the expert talents of Penthouse's Miss April of 1997, Helena Roberts. It was set to be a titanic clash of the perverted, horny teen titans.
*
8:50pm, a chilly dark night, Akira and Mike in a little huddled corner in the garden. Akira was in deep meditation, able to listen to a voice that had comforted him before all his big fights.
"Win, win at all costs, beat him, beat him bad. Win, win that prize, have it, it's yours. Helena, Helena, Helena, Helena, Hell -"
"Akira?" Mike woke his brother up from his trance.
"Oh? Time?"
"Yeah, come on, let's do this."
Meanwhile, inside the house, Yumi had got herself seated on the couch, alongside Helena, enjoying some Home Improvement.
"Oh I like this show," said Helena, "I remember my cousin pulling his little pecker out and doing the nasty when Pammie came on screen."
Yumi smiled and nodded. "I see."
"So where your man at?" asked Helena.
"He in office, alone. He say he has to lock door to work because if he is around me for too long..." Yumi blushed.
"God damn you're such a naughty little Asian gal, aren't ya? Real naughty girl....Hey, you know where our boys at?"
"Oh they outside, practice fight. You know what that is?"
Helena smirked. "Oh, that? Nothing, just lil' boys stuff. They're professionals, it's what they do, you know. We should not interrupt or do nothin', you know."
Yumi nodded while remaining transfixed on the screen. "Mhhm. Yes."
Helena had her eyes elsewhere: Yumi's breasts. Yumi's tight, cleavage-bearing shirt had her money-makers looking exceptionally fine that night. Helena nudged closer and spoke into Yumi's ear:
"Now I'm not a member of the rug-munching squad, apart from maybe one or two wild nights where liquor was involved, but I just gots to say, as a totally he-toro sexual woman: I want milk from your boobies."
Red-faced Yumi put her hand over her mouth and giggled. "Helena! Oh my!"
"Girlfriend you better check if yo' man ain't put a deposit in your belly! I've never seen boobs so full and ripe, and, oh," Helena poked the side of Yumi's breast, "So soft and squishy!"
Yumi put her hands over her breasts while hysterically laughing. "Helena, hahahaha, stop, please!"
Helena put her hands up, "I'm just sayin' it how I see it...Hey, Yumi, let's talk, like gals do, talk about sex, men, sex, men, sex, men, sex, men, shoes and sex. Keep your attention on me, talk to me, forget about everything else around you, let's just talk like sisters do!"
Yumi nodded. "Okay, that sound like fun."
*
Back outside, Akira approached the battlefield, Robert already waiting, looking mean and angry in his blood red shorts. Akira, shirtless and in his flame-print fighting pants, stared down Robert, both feeling the same aura of sexually-motivated aggression.
They walked to the middle and touched gloves.
"Good fight," said Robert.
"Hai," Akira nodded.
Mike led the two to opposite ends of the field, both walking exactly seven paces away. Mike could feel a hot, heavy air in the middle, it burning, burning hotter with each passing second
"Okay? Ready?" said Mike, the hot air going deep into his lungs. "Uhhh, fight!"
As soon as Mike uttered the "t" in fight, Robert dashed forward, rolled his hand into a fist, and smacked Akira in the face with a rock-hard punch. Akira fell on the floor, then got right back up, dazed, hurt, his cheek red and throbbing, his senses a mess - and then it came again. Wham, wham, wham! Left-right, left-right, left-right, six hard lighting-packed punches to the face, sparks flying out Robert's hands. Through this punishment, Akira somehow remained standing.
"What!?" Robert laid another barrage of fists on Akira's face, and yet he stayed on his feet - though not of his own accord. Akira wobbled left and right, everything spinning as he attempted to unscramble his brain. Even though lucid thought was far away from his mind, Akira knew the reason why Robert had the upper-hand: the motivating powers of his sex machine mother Helena: it was indeed a powerful force. After another brain-rattling smack to the face, Akira finally figured out that he had to counter, so he saw Robert's next uppercut, ducked, grabbed his opponent's legs and took him to the ground. Looking for a rest, Akira didn't hit his foe; he just tried to keep him at bay. This didn't last too long, as Robert kicked Akira back, got right to his feet, and went back to laying in hard shorts to his sex-rival's cranium.
"Akira! Akira!" shouted Mike. "Come on, fight, come on!"
Akira couldn't hear his step-brother, all he could hear and feel was the pain melting all over his cheeks, bones, and mouth. It was crushing, hard, and unavoidable pain. Akira attempted another counterattack, going for an uppercut, grazing Robert, but then he stumbled and Robert went back to his crisp boxing.
"Stay down!" shouted Robert as his arms got heavier, his fists like two lugging, crumbling rocks that were being hit against the boulder that was Akira's face.
Akira then managed to lift his arms up to guard the punches, which were getting slower and slower by the blow. In this position, Akira slowly felt his senses dulling, his hearing filtering out, his pain melting, everything around him going dark, everything becoming black, as black as the night sky...then, a big bright purple flash came before him, taking him away from the fight.
"Wh-what?" he said as he opened his bleary eyes.
Akira looked around his new surroundings, deeply confused. He was at the front of a car, at the wheel, a narrow dirt road in front of him.
"Am I?"
"No," a deep voice spoke from the backseat.
Akira was startled. For some reason he couldn't turn to look behind him, just able to peer at the rear-view mirror: Akira saw a dark-suited, hat-wearing man-like thing, no facial features, just cloaked in darkness.
"I think I should be leading this vehicle," it said with a sinister hiss.
Akira looked again at the mirror, this time catching a glimpse of his own bloodied, beaten face.
"You really don't have a choice," said the creature.
Akira nodded. "Yes, I know...please, don't hurt him."
"That," the unknown entity put its hat over its face, "I just can't promise."
With a flash, their places had been switched. The thing got behind the wheel, Akira in the backseat. This creature then hit the exhaust, and sped them back to the fight...
Robert laid a big fist to Akira's face, and then instinctively stepped back as a burst of purple malevolence shot into the sky.
"Urrrrr," growled the beast that had charge of Akira's body.
Mike's mouth dropped when he saw a huge purple beacon shoot up, way, way up into the sky.
"What...what the hell is that!?"
Meanwhile, in the living room, Helena was explaining the rules to her self-created game.
"Okay, if you nod, like I'm doing now, your first time was a single-digit figure, okay? If you keep nodding, like I am, it was a mid-single-digit figure. So, okay, I'll start: was it double-digits?"
"Okay," Yumi rubbed her hands and got ready to nod - but before she did, a huge shiver went through her spine, and spilt itself midway to spread over her whole body, and then, she felt a huge dark feast of energy coming from outside: Yumi dormant senses had been forcefully jolted back to life.
"Hey, you okay, honey?" asked Helena.
Yumi didn't respond, because within a second, she knew the most horrible, worst outcome had happened for her son. She knew because she only ever felt this type of energy once: when her ex-husband conceived their child. Yumi jumped off the couch, leapt for the patio door, grabbed the handle, and almost tore it off as she rushed outside.
"No, no, no!" she said to herself as she saw her worst fear confirmed: a live, vivid energy beam rushing into the sky, she able to see her son's growling, menacing face. Yumi knew that the body of her boy was there- but something much more sinister had taken over. Yumi also knew she had only one choice - and only chance to do it: knock the demon back with her fist.
"Robert, Mike!" she shouted, "Run, run back!"
The demonically possessed Akira turned his head, looked out to the distance, saw her running, then, in a flash, she was gone. Where'd she gone? She'd seemingly disappeared into the wind. How'd she do that? How did she do that? The solution was simple: Up.
"Huuu?" the demon felt it before he saw it: Yumi's holy fist smashing against his face. The demon went out with one blow, falling to the ground with a thud.
"Akira!" Yumi got on her knees to check on her beaten boy. She checked his vitals, his heart; he was stable, alive, but not awake, and that was due to the demon. Yumi had been taught what to do if her boy ever got caught up with the demon: she had to forcefully remove the malicious evil from her son's body, pushing out all the evil energy right from its natural centre by using a technique most commonly known as fellatio.
"Is, is he okay?" asked Mike.
Yumi grabbed her son and put him over her shoulder. She could feel his stiff hard-on: he desperately needed his release so all that pent-up menace floating around him would disperse. Morality had no time to cry: she had to suck her son's penis - now. Yumi turned and dashed towards the house.
"Hey, what's all this brouhaha!?" asked Helena.
At that moment, Yumi felt like giving Helena a front kick right to her well-worn jawline...but didn't, her son mattered more. Yumi ran like the wind, going for the stairs, seeing her son's room as the best place to complete this ritual.
"Hey!?" said David. "Did I just see a fireworks show or something?"
Yumi ignored her man, ran into her son's room, shut the door, locked it, and threw her boy on the bed
"Oh I'm so, so sorry," she felt so guilty for letting this happen, blaming herself for not paying enough attention, letting herself weaken. She had little time for pity though: her boy was in need.
"I'm sorry." Yumi approached her son's bedside, grabbed the waist of his pants and pulled them down.
Boing!
Yumi immediately felt the scorching heat emanate from her son's member, it a deep shade of red, veins strong and thick, his erection at a level that looked both painful...and impressive.
Yumi sighed as she got on her knees, her left hand on her son's chest, her right clasped around his boiling member.
"Hmmmm...okay!" making peace with her duty, she opened her mouth, lowered it down, and put her son's penis inside it. Within first contact of tongue with tip, she felt a huge amount of sexual fury bursting out from his iron rod. Yumi stayed strong, weathering the storm and going right into full-on blowjob mode.
Yumi started with a simple rotation, keeping it rolling in her mouth, keeping it gentle and smooth. Slowly, she felt her son's body lighten, the evil energy being lifted by her warm, wet mouth. Feeling good progress was being made. Yumi accelerated her rotation, going in deeper, harder.
"Haaa..." Akira's breath had returned. It was small, faint, but further joy for the guilty mother.
"Ohhh, Son?" Yumi put her son's penis all the way into her mouth, keeping the rotation going, clasping her right hand tightly around it, giving her son's penis both a tug and suck.
"Haaa...Haaa." Akira thought he'd died and gone to heaven: in that numb state, all he could feel was a calming warm light wash all over him. As his mother continued delivering her oral medicine, Akira felt like he'd for sure passed over to the other side: he felt only peace, calm, joy, and unfiltered endless bliss.
Yumi carried on diligently, surprised at the rock hard resistance her boy's piece was giving. Feeling her son's hardness needed a melting solution, Yumi got the piece out of her mouth, got her tongue on the tip and licked, licked the flapping foreskin with the tip of her tongue, giving her son a shot of high-grade pow-pow-pow-pow. This gentle motion got the young fighter twitching back to life.
"Hmmm!?" Akira felt his senses kicking back in, just starting to hear and see again.
"Akira!" Yumi was pleased beyond words to see her boy coming back to life, so much so that she improved her oral delights, keeping a firm grip on her son's instrument as she bobbed her head in and out of her son's throbbing beast, really working the suction.
"Haaaaa!" Now awake, he looked at the pitch-black ceiling, and heard an odd suckling sound. The last he remembered he was on the losing-end of a beat down, now he was experiencing this amazing pleasure. Wondering what had happened, he pointed his eyes downward, and got a very, very welcome surprise.
"Ma-M-Mom?" he said in his shrill voice.
With her mouth still full, she placed her left index finger on her son's mouth, signalling for him to stay silent. He met with her request.
"Hmmm!" Yumi gave her son's member a big inhale of breath..."Ah!" and then released it. Yumi held on to his instrument with a tight grip, giving it a wet, hard, slippery tug. As she did, she looked at her son and spoke softly:
"Are you okay? Are you okay? I'm so, so sorry Son."
He nodded. "I'm okay..."
"This," she said referring to her hand and his wet soapy penis, "This is what I had to do to bring you back, but please, let me finish this, let me remove all of the badness."
He wasn't going to disagree. "Yes," he said as his mother's delicate fingers glided over his cock.
"Thank you, I promise this will never, ever, happen again." she leaned her face down, puckered up, and kissed her teen boy's winkie. "Promise.
"Ohhhhh yes. Oh, umm, yes, thank you." The tremendous beating seemed worth it now: this pleasure he was feeling far surpassed the pain.
The squishing and sucking continued in the steaming hot room, Yumi now simply amazed at the staying power of her son's fully charged erect penis: With her talents and blessed power, the most any man could take when her mouth came into play was a minute or two, but, with her son, she'd been sucking for five full minutes and only now felt signs of completion. Aiming to make her boy cum, Yumi gripped her son's cock with a tight grip and gave it a nice, hard deep-tissue massage.
"Ohhh!" his bones shivered as the super-combo of his mom's mouth and hand worked over his member. Akira's pain became immaterial, any dark remnants silenced as he took in the joys of this taboo sex act.
Yumi kept the pressure coming, feeling her boy was at least owed this treat. Even though all the badness was gone and all he needed was a good rest, Yumi still was aiming to finish him off - and not with a whimper, but an exhilarating hellfire blast.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," Yumi muttered softly as she maintained her lightning-quick pace, shaking the bed with her high-tempo technique, pushing herself forward while performing this sacred ritual. As she kept going, Yumi's sweaty, ripe breasts came into play, her protruding nipples grazing past her boy's pecker.
"Hmmmm!" this got his heartbeat back to where it needed to be, pumping red-hot blood into his veins.
"Akira," Yumi leaned over, towards her son's face, her breasts sliding past his chest, her warm sweat sprinkling down to his member.
"Ma, Ma," he said with his whimpering voice.
"Yes? Yes?" she said with her face next to his, lowering down to listen to his next instruction:
"Mom...please...boobs....my penis."
Any other day, Yumi would've kicked her son off a cliff for just having the gall to ask for some paizuri...but, on this day, he earned it.
"Yes, okay, okay Son!" Yumi got into position, pulled herself closer to the bed, lowered her chest, and put her son's penis between her heaving breasts.
"M-M-MOM!" he roared so loud that the house's very foundations were left shaking, indeed it was a titanic surge of energy: the power of his mother's boobs against Little Aki tore out, beat down and kicked out the sleeping demon, the purple haze fading away, absorbed by the holy goodness that was pouring out of Yumi. And, before she gets condemned for being a bad mother, it should be noted that she kept her shirt on during the tit-fucking: she knew enough to not give him everything...just yet. After a few tugs inside her money-makers, she lowered down her mouth and alternated between tugging and sucking, tugging and sucking.
"Yes, yes, yes!" he said happily, smiling, feeling the finish, feeling it coming hard, fast, screeching out of him at a rumbling pace.
"Ohhhh! Ohhh, ohhh, Mom!" Akira felt it, felt it all get ready, cocked, aimed, ready to fire at a speed and power he'd never felt before in his entire life. This wasn't Akira the demon child, nor Akira the motivated fighter, this was just a boy, a boy that was lying on his back as his mother gave him a hard, deep, body-rattling experience that he was never going to forget.